We are Stars
by Rufescent
Summary: A series of oneshots with a variety of situations and alternative universes that all center around America. Dorky awkwardness and heroics ensue! Ch. 3: AU. Three princes - Yao the wise, Kiku the clever, and Alfred the fool - must undergo a series of challenges to determine who shall inherit the kingdom. The catch? Their starting path is determined by a feather.
1. come sit with us

**Disclaimer** : I don't own _Hetalia_.

 **Author's Note** : These will all be short drabbles/oneshots about America or Alfred. Some will be AU, some not, and definitely anything in-between. If they are a romance-centered oneshot, it's most likely to be vanilla USUK, but that's also viable to change anytime. I'm also setting the entire fic as "complete" (since the individual plots will likely be wrapped up in a chapter) even though I will continue to add more oneshots/drabbles.

I hope you enjoy these baby stories!

* * *

 **Summary** : High school AU. Alfred being more than awkward during lunch. Ivan and Yao are fully entertained.

* * *

Alfred scowled at the girls' backs, willing their phones to all simultaneously crash so they would stop walking so slowly and then he could _finally_ go eat his burger and fries in peace. Instead, he was shifting from foot to foot as he tried to calculate the cost-benefit analysis of shoving them away. Ahh, choices, choices. His food or being a hero? Hero or food?

The cafeteria was packed full of students since the assembly had lasted longer than everyone expected. And thus, the masses were starving, Alfred especially! He was a growing boy, he needed to eat so he could be continue being the best football player on the team.

Alfred craned his neck as he searched for his large Russian frenemy. Mattie was sitting with Gilbert today, so no sir-e was he going to sit there and watch them suck-face, because then he'd totally lose his appetite.

Seeing one of the girls skip ahead to hug her friend around the waist, Alfred silently cheered – an opening! The American rushed right through the middle of the group before the empty space could close up, muttering a hasty, "excuse me, dudes" before successfully encountering sweet, sweet freedom. His delicious burger awaits!

Once he was safely in the lunch line, he surveyed the cafeteria. The tables were quickly filling up, and he barely saw any free spaces. Alfred bit his lip, hoping he wouldn't have to eat at one of the tables outside. It was cold!

After collecting his three hamburgers and a healthy dish of fries on the side, the teen marched to the far end of the cafeteria when he spotted Ivan and Yao sitting at one of the circle-shaped tables with their heads bowed together. Probably talking about communism. Without a care in the world, Alfred plopped down in one of the two empty seats in front of them and beamed. They looked up and, upon seeing his gorgeous face, frowned. They obviously missed his company.

"Go away, _Yanki_ ," Ivan hissed, holding his eerie smile as his eyes darkened. He wrapped a possessive arm around the older Chinese student. "You are not wanted. Shoo."

Alfred didn't even flinch. "No can-do, commie bastard. So how are ya'll today? You goin' to the game tonight, Yao?" he asked cheerfully as he lifted his first burger to his mouth. Ivan was glaring at him again. Too bad Alfred was resistant to all things evil and Russian (same thing, really).

Yao wrinkled his nose at the way his pickles were falling onto the school tray as ketchup-covered casualties. The small teen crossed his arms over his chest and swapped a look with Ivan. "No."

"What, why?" Alfred whined after swallowing a large bite. He leaned against the back of the chair, propping one foot up on the other empty seat. "It's going to be great!"

"Because I can't stand to see much more of your fat face than I do already."

"I'm not fat! This is muscle!"

"Yes you are, capitalist pig."

"Shut up, commie bastard! No one aske—arg!"

Before Alfred could die via scarf strangulation, an uncomfortable cough behind the American's seat forced the students to pause and look up. Quickly throwing the offending fabric at the (psychotic) gleeful Russian, Alfred smiled up at the newcomer, trying to match the sunny-blond hair, green eyes, and enormous caterpillar eyebrows.

Oh! It was Arthur, the British exchange student. Alfred had English with him, and the teen was constantly scowling at him whenever he answered the questions incorrectly. Sometimes he would make outrageous suggestions just to see the exchange student's scandalized reactions because he made the best funny faces. The Brit was always hanging out with fruity Francis, though, so he never really had the chance to talk with him.

"Is anyone sitting here?" Arthur asked, carefully eyeing the trio as he gestured with a short wave at the empty chair Alfred's foot was currently occupying. He obviously meant it as 'can I take this chair?'

Alfred quickly removed his foot and blurted out happily, "Nope! Come sit with us!"

Arthur blinked. Alfred blinked. In the background, Ivan and Yao wasted no time in howling with laughter like the absolutely crappy friends they were. Meanwhile, Arthur and Alfred stared uncomfortably at each other. Alfred opened his mouth and then closed it again, not knowing what to say and fearing any attempt would just make his face even more pink.

"…Uh… thank you… but I'm just going to sit with my friends," Arthur finally said and picked up the chair. He smiled bemusedly at Alfred before walking back to the long table with Francis and that Spanish dude who always hung out with the potty-mouthed Italian. Alfred watched him go with a grimace.

Once Arthur was out of hearing range, he smacked his head against the table and moaned pathetically. Ivan was still giggling when the lunch bell rang.

On the following Monday, Alfred kept his head down as he walked into his English class and resolved to not antagonize Arthur until his embarrassment faded into a blurry joke. Ivan and Yao hadn't stopped pestering him about the Incident for the entire weekend. At least they won the football game, Alfred thought, smiling at his desk.

"Is this seat open?" a distinctly British voice asked.

Alfred jerked his head up and stared at Arthur with wide eyes. "Uh, yeah! Go ahead and take it." He flashed a confident smile at the shorter blond and burned the desire to hide himself under the desk. It was too soon!

Instead of dragging the plastic chair into the corner where the exchange student normally sat, he slid into the seat across from Alfred. "My name's Arthur," he greeted politely, offering a little wave.

"HEY!" Alfred couldn't stop the wide, toothy grin from breaking his face in half. "I'm Alfred, the hero! Welcome to my table!"

.

 _fin_

.

 **Author's Note** : This is actually supposed to be platonic. I don't know if my attempt was successful, though. Also, this is a pretty short length for me (less than a thousand words, so tiny!) but this is all I wanted to write about, so... sorry? The idea was based off of a friend's story about being an awkward duckling and I wanted to share it because it's fun! Thanks for reading!


	2. all that glitters

**Disclaimer** : I don't own _Hetalia_ or the _Marvel_ references.

 **Author's Note** : ENJOY (please)!

 **Warnings** : mature language.

* * *

 **Summary** : Nation-verse. America acquires a new friend after a particularly hot day! The nations don't understand why their loose change has suddenly vanished.

* * *

The world meeting was being hosted in Washington, D.C., during a particularly humid day, where even the more tropical countries felt stifled and uncomfortable in the muggy air. The usually over-blasted air-conditioning had broken about three hours ago, and America's attempt to cancel the conference was derailed by an angry Germany who threatened death and mutilation if anyone tried to skip out on the lectures—again. The past week of getting absolutely nothing accomplished had forcefully come to an end, even if they had to suffer now for it.

After about an hour of futile arguing and cursing, America had (grudgingly) returned armed with help. Rotating fans were placed strategically in each corner of the room. Soon, countries made assorted collections along the room's outskirts as the group tried to feel as much cool air flow as they could in the warm room.

"And that's why—" America abruptly stopped mid-sentence as he blinked at the empty table, finally seeing the mass exodus of countries when the last hold out - Germany - had shuffled over to Italy and Prussia in the far left corner. The artificial wind ruffled the hair plastered against his forehead, and the stoic blond visibly sighed in relief at the feeling. America blinked again, swiping at the sweat on his cheek. "Wow, okay. This is getting out of hand."

Germany stared unflinchingly back at the superpower's hopeful puppy-dog eyes, and the European's frown was still harsh and unyielding. America scowled.

"Fine," he yelled into the microphone, crossing his arms after he rolled up his sleeves and undid the top two buttons of his white undershirt. His beloved bomber jacket had long ago been draped across the back of the single chair still resting by the long conference table. He wet his lips, glancing back to the five pages of notes he had yet to get through. "And that's why…" No, screw this, he was hot and tired and stinky and the fans weren't even close to reaching the podium. "That's why it's important to budget."

England made a gurgling sound of displeasure. America's eyes shot to him, hoping that the heat would make the island country too tired to argue. If only he was that lucky. The Briton shuffled upright, his face angled away from the fan as his blond hair whipped around. His face was pink, but not sweating buckets like it was for the cranky American.

"We were talking about obesity, you stupid fat twat."

Well that was uncalled for. America ground his teeth, leaning forward with narrowed eyes. Apparently England was at the stage where the heat bothered him enough to make him extra irritable with a side of pissy. But it wasn't yet enough for him to be too tired to make fun of his ex-colony. Lucky him!

"Rude!" America said loudly, trying for a more light-hearted response. However, the violent expression on his face had the few countries in his direct line of sight hide behind their chairs. His easy smile broke within seconds. He was one-hundred-percent done. England was still smirking. He glared. "You want to go, little man?"

"Only if it's someplace with airflow," England mocked. France snorted and Canada giggled. America remained unamused.

"Fight me," he growled into the microphone, a promise in his eyes. From a corner of the room, Italy started to cry and beg for pasta and Germany to save him. As Germany turned to the Italian with a consternated expression, Prussia dramatically burst upright, pushing his chair over with a loud clatter for attention.

"The awesome Prussia is leaving!" he announced into the air and marched out the arched doors with a flippant peace-sign as he disappeared into the hallway.

Chaos erupted as other countries clamored up and tried to escape the room before Germany could catch and physically manhandle them into obedience. America felt it important to toss England a middle-fingered salute before he stomped out of the lecture room, leaving his notes and lunch at the podium without a care.

Single-mindedly seeking the steady hum of a blasting AC, America rode the metro and then caught an uber to get to one of his houses in Virginia, not waiting for his bodyguards or any of the other countries he had previously made plans with. He was going home, and no one was going to stop him.

He arrived at the suburban house with a weak but sincere grin plastered on his face, and once inside he felt it was necessary to poke his head into the basement to greet Tony.

"Fuck you," the alien greeted back cheerfully, not taking his owlish eyes away from the new horror video game America had bought him last week. He was almost done beating the final boss, the on-screen character swinging a long sword dramatically and making one-liner quips. America would have felt jealous if he wasn't so tired.

"I'm going to take a nap until it's fall," America informed the extraterrestrial seriously, leaving the basement door open so the cold air could creep up the stairs and flow into the other rooms in the house. It wasn't fair that his roommate was hogging all the cold.

Before America could make good on his promise to sleep for at least a few months, he had a few chores to finish up. He pulled out a can of soda (or was it pop? coke? Sometimes, America hated how his people made it their mission to make everything unnecessarily complicated) and ambled out to his backyard with a bucket. The large pool took over a good space of the yard, sparkling in the sunlight as tiny waves rippled along the surface.

"Good afternoon, whale," America sang happily, beaming. The overflowing bucket was digging into his hip.

The marine mammal flapped its tail, purposefully splashing a handful of water on the young country who only chuckled fondly, brushing at his wet clothes and wagging a finger in teasing disapproval. The dirty-blond laughed again, the sound loud and obnoxious, and yelled "HERO" before dropping the mix of fish, shrimp, crabs, and krill into the pool. With a parting pat on the whale's slippery head, America walked back inside his temperature-regulated house.

Before he made his way upstairs, he cleaned his hands and gathered some fresh lettuce for his rabbit. The bunny spared him a flat look as America entered the room and crouched down, playing with the animal's long, warm ears. To reward the small pet's patience and endurance of his loud voice, the teen plopped the leafy greens into the cage, rubbing the fur in a simple but friendly goodbye. She didn't seem to care when he slipped into the hallway, flopping into a stretched line and blinking contentedly at the wall.

With one last chore to do before he could sleep, the bespectacled nation changed into his pajamas (it didn't matter the sun was still out and it wasn't even evening, shush you). Yawning as he entered his heavily-postered room, he beelined to the corner where seven poofy pillows were arranged into a comfortable bed. He normally let his unicorn sleep in his bed with him, but sometimes the magical creature liked sleeping without someone who tossed and turned. America bent down to fluff up a wilting pink pillow and felt a warm, wet sensation slide along his finger.

"Eeeee!" America puffed out a breath, calming his heart through sheer force of will. "Hahaha... ha, hey, little fella!" He presented both his hands, looking around blindly for any chance to see the pure animal. He didn't see anything, as expected, but that didn't bother him too much when he felt the cutie rub its head under his palms. Brightening, America pet his invisible unicorn, wondering not for the first time the color of the fur he couldn't see.

After a few peaceful moments with his unicorn, America rose and popped his back. The room was still a little warm, but he would just have to patiently wait for the colder air to make its way up to the second floor.

He fell on his bed with a content sigh. A second later, the bed dipped and a rough tongue licked his cheek. America giggled into his pillow and fell asleep with the man-made cool air keeping the hot humidity at bay.

As it was, in his distracted state, America hadn't noticed how the head-sized gold ball that Tony had gifted him a year ago as a joke was cracked down the middle and opened up like a broken egg or a glass flower in bloom.

It was impossible to ignore in the morning after he awoke, however, because not only was there a new friend curled against his chest, but there was also an inordinate amount of shiny, glittering things collected into a large pile on his floor.

America wasn't aware of any of that, though, when he first awoke to the sound of his phone alarm. He originally assumed the rough but warm feeling next to him was his unicorn, and so he slipped out of his covers and zombie-like made his way down the stairs without veering from his usual routine. His barefeet skirted around the mess of copper, metal, and gold by only a lucky centimeter.

After filling up on coffee, toast, bacon, eggs, and chocolate-chip muffins, America stumbled back up to his room to get dressed and put on his glasses. He walked fluidly around the growing hoard of shiny, reflecting things without actually seeing it. It was only after he was dressed in his uniform, lacking only his bomber jacket, that he stopped short to stare at the humongous pile of spare change, gifted jewelry he hadn't even known he still had, and metal buttons that had originally been attached to uniforms that had long ago been locked away. The sound of metal hitting metal tinkled from behind the stash.

America blinked, wondering if he actually was awake right now. The sound jingled again.

What the…?

America reflexively looked for his unicorn, confused by the strange behavior. When he saw the downward press of his bed as if an object of weight was curled on top, America knew the sound of clinking was not from his well behaved magical unicorn.

With the bravery of a hero, he slowly leaned around the collection of shiny objects.

What.

There, sitting snugly among beads and coined money, was a tiny dragon gnawing on a nickel. Its tail occasionally slapped the pile and loosened a few coins along the top row of the precarious pile. America stared, looking from the hoard to the… dragon. He squinted. Hey! His watch was in there!

"TONY!" America shouted, resisting the urge to stomp his feet.

He would have blamed England for this, 'cause maybe the ex-empire went cray-cray and cursed him to have a dragon or something weird like that, but the broken gold ball (which was actually a _shell_ , apparently) was sitting mockingly from within the pile of America's other shiny objects, sparkling from the center of his room like a twinkling eye.

This was definitely Tony's fault.

As America stared at the dragon-alien-thingie still teething on his middle-sized coin, Tony finally walked into the room with a crooked star-themed night-hat, half-way through a yawn. America pointed to the dragon (WHAT) and hissed, "What the hell did you actually give me for my birthday?"

Tony's lidded red eyes blinked slowly at the non-human teenager. "Fucking shit, asshat."

"ARGH! What do you _mean_ you told me it was a XXX egg?" America put his hands on his hips and glowered. No way was the little grey alien going to pin the blame on him this time. Nope. He would have remembered if he had gotten a baby alien lifeform for a simple birthday present! "You _never_ said that!" he insisted.

"Fuck you."

America scowled. "That is completely unrelated."

Tony sighed like he was dealing with a petulant child. "Dipshit. _Fuck_ you."

America flushed a bright pink. Alright, perhaps it was actually related. "Fine, so maybe you did warn me about where you got it. But you didn't say it was alive!"

Tony shrugged and then turned away, shuffling down the stairs in his padded bunny slippers. America watched him go helplessly.

 _Apparently_ , the warm weather yesterday signaled to the baby alien that it was time to hatch and become a freeeee dragon. America bemoaned not having normal friends.

After five minutes of America moping and complaining aloud to the Universe, he felt a tongue dart along his exposed ankle. Glaring through his wire-framed glasses, the dragon with its bright, cheery silver eyes smiled up at him, a long tail curved around his feet. The tail wagged.

It was kinda cute, he had to admit. Fine, he would keep the little rascal. For now.

"Alright, dude," he told the dragon, getting down on one knee to run a finger along the little ridges. The baby dragon snapped at his fingers but America shoved a quarter into its claws and it was distracted by the glinting grey. "We're going on a walk and then I have to go to work."

America couldn't help but smile when the dragon only snorted a ring of black smoke and chewed on the larger coin in satisfaction.

...o0o…

England twisted the jacket in his sweaty fingers, wondering angrily where the late git could be. Germany was about ready to explode. Luckily, Italy kept distracting him with silly questions or gorgeous doodles. If he didn't know any better, he would have thought that the brunet was doing it on purpose.

At least the air conditioning had been repaired and the weather today wasn't so unbearably sticky. The District was still a swampy, uncomfortable place, but with the aid of a working AC and lower temperatures, the countries were more amiable to mistakes. Such as the host country being an hour late.

The Brit glared at the bomber jacket he rescued from being totally forgotten the previous day.

Stupid Yank, not even coming to the meeting on time so he could apologize for his stinging words. It had been the heat and a sharp headache that had exaggerated his cruelty. America didn't deserve his ire, not like that, and he wished the young nation had arrived on time today so he could cleanse the air beforehand.

Finally, America burst into the room with a loud bang. He didn't proclaim himself the hero until a quick second of hesitation (distraction?) had passed (so quick, England thought he imagined it). Someone silvery and translucent gasped in surprise and whispered, "Alfred, what happened to Texas, eh?"

England squinted at America. He _did_ look different... and weren't his glasses called Texas? Oh! Canadia was right. America, in his usual uniform (lacking only his trusted jacket), wasn't wearing his glasses. The country looked much younger without them, his blue eyes vibrant and unguarded by the glass.

America's face flushed suddenly. "Um," he mumbled, jostling the ugly backpack he was hugging to his chest. What was he doing with that thing? Where was his briefcase? England raised a large eyebrow in confusion when America remained hovering unsurely by the door. "Hi!" he tried and only got more glares or confused looks.

"Alfred, finally!" the ghost shouted in a surprisingly loud voice, making France jump and turn wide eyes onto his old colony. England told himself he wasn't startled.

The North American twin smiled broadly, his shoulders relaxing as he started to make his way over to his usually more soft-spoken brother, France, and England. "Soooooorry, Canada," he chirped in his overly-loud voice as he explained to the world at large, "Tony was trying to break into SHIELD—er, sorry, I meant NASA, hahahaha, and change their data on nearby black holes, so of course I had to stop him 'CAUSE I'M THE HERO!"

"Your… friend… seems almost more trouble than he is worth," France muttered under his breath. England nodded absentmindedly. He hated America's alien. The tosser always called him names.

Soon, America sidled up beside a flickering mirror image of himse—wait, no, that was Canada. "Thanks, bro!" he said, accompanied with a friendly smack on the shoulder. England didn't know what he was thankful for, but Canada nodded and smiled gently at his southern neighbor, so it must have been something only the twins were aware of.

As Germany yelled for order and silence now that their host had (finally) arrived, Canada turned to his twin, asking in his usual hushed tone, "What happened to your glasses?"

America whispered back, "They were too shiny" as if that explained everything. The three blonds blinked and exchanged lost looks.

" _Amerika_!"

"Coming!" With one final grin and thumbs-up at his neighbor and allies, America slowly made his way to the podium, his fingers absently skimming along the back of chairs. He left his backpack on the ground near his brother and England.

"Thanks for coming, y'all! We have a kick-ass day today, talkin' about… uh, fiscal responsibility," he paused and then let out a dry and insincere, "Whoooo."

And thus the day began, with the usual amount of interruptions and Germany trying to (unsuccessfully) glare sense into people.

It was only an hour into the presentation on the economy and stock markets when China made a screeching "AIYAH" and glowered at the speaker, even though the short country was the one who had interrupted the talk, not the other way around.

"You'll be quiet now, _da_?" Russia directed with his classic frozen smile from the podium stand upfront. America tossed a cheerful smirk at China, happy with anything and anyone that could make his frenemy stop rambling about 'stupid capitalist pigs, coughAmericacough.' The Asian country ignored them both.

"My money is gone, aru!" he exclaimed, pawing at his wallet as if that would make the golden panda coins return. "There's a thief here!"

"Don't be dramatic," France huffed, leaning back in his seat so he could toss his wavy, blond curls over a shoulder and still keep eye contact with the older country. "Who here has a need for Chinese currency in the States?"

Unfortunately, the Frenchman's fancy logic did nothing to stop the sudden panic as nations started pointing fingers. It started with the other Asian countries blaming each other due to their homeland's shared borders, but it soon spread to the entire world population once Italy mentioned to Germany that his pretty coined euros were gone as well. Thus began the mad dash to check each person's balance, everyone finding that all their coins were missing. Oddly, the paper money and plastic cards remained untouched in their pockets.

"Alone, the loose change doesn't amount to much," England commented, watching in concern as America, his face blotched red in panicked stress, searched his empty backpack with flailing limbs.

"It's not here, it's not here," he was murmuring. Poor lad, his boss must be very strict about the budget this time around.

"Maple!" a voice screamed quietly in a feathery, wispy quality. America blinked, pulled from his panic to stare at his twin. Matthew was on the ground, glaring at the tiled floor in blank interest.

His glasses were gone, and it wasn't anywhere near his feet.

Oh no.

"France!" America called, fumbling around for the beautiful European country. England jerked around, looking for the frog with an unprecedented amount of determination. If America needed him, then he would assist, even if it meant finding the cheesy monkey. "France!" the young dirty-blond tried again.

" _Amérique_ , calm down," someone said, soft hands abruptly cradling America's face. England chewed on his lip, watching over the other European's shoulder. "What is it, _ma chéri_?"

"Watch Canada," America ordered, "he can't see very well without his glasses." France nodded and gathered the North American into his arms, cooing in French as Canada blushed and shot back a huffy response. America pursed his lips before facing the blurry version of England still hovering nearby, almost to the point of wringing his hands in unusual nervousness. "Arthur."

Something soft fell on top of his head and America squawked. He gathered the fabric into his lap, running a finger along it. He stared. He had been planning on going to the lost and found, hoping that the janitors had recognized it. Arthur crossed his arms at the warm look America was giving the jacket.

"You forgot it," he said shortly.

America waited. His blue eyes glowed.

England sighed, grumbling and biting the inside of his cheek. " _Fine_ … git. I'm sorry for what I said, I didn't mean it that way."

America beamed, pulling the jacket on even though it was still unbearably hot outside (and stupidly warm inside). "Apology accepted, Iggy!"

England spluttered at the name but America ignored him, pulling the older nation towards the doors. "So… I kinda have a problem?" Before England could ask, the dirty-blond burst out, "I have a baby dragon and I think it's collecting a treasure for me."

….What?

"What?"

America scowled at an advertisement on the wall, not breaking his pace. "Tony," he hissed the name and England felt satisfied at the level of contempt, "decided to give me an egg for my birthday from an extrasolar planet in the Andromeda galaxy." At England's expression, America tacked on defensively, "He didn't think it would ever hatch on Earth since it needed a very specific climate."

"Of course," England agreed airily, barely listening to all this rubbish. Of _course_! Of course America would get an alien dragon and then bring it the world conference. Who raised this child?! Oh wait.

"Can you find it?" America asked, playing with his empty backpack strap. His eyes were anxious and he continued hesitantly, as if the Briton would refuse simply because America wanted something from him, "I'll be able to return everyone's money, then."

"Yes, certainly," England sniffed, pride swelling in his stomach at America finally recognizing his magical talent. He could certainly locate the mythical creature - easy! All he needed was something from the magical being. America's eyes grew hopeful and that feeling bloomed into a fluttering sensation.

"Awesome! I'm going to check my house in Virginia. Could you maybe scout out the conference hall?"

England glared at the 50 emboldened on America's back as the American gave him a bright thumbs up and then raced outside. That… utter twat!

In the streets of the city, America called Tony on his cellphone and ordered him to teleport them back to his home in Virginia. The alien complained in loud curses and a few pedestrians glanced at him in bemusement. He smiled sheepishly at them and then hissed quickly into the phone, "If you don't pick me up I won't buy you anymore chocolate. Ever."

The alien was addicted to the processed cocoa, something America found unendingly interesting. Apparently chocolate was poisonous to the majority of species, aliens included, and the yummy substance acted like what some of the more relaxed drugs here on Earth did.

"Shit," Tony answered and then hung up.

"Love you too," he said, smiling at the sky as he raced to find a spot outside of stray eyes. Ducking behind a particularly large tree, America closed his eyes and then counted to five (seconds) before opening his eyes.

His Captain America poster stared back, judging his carelessness, so America turned to look at the Iron Man figurine on his shelf, where the billionaire seemed utterly at ease with the fact that a pile five times larger than it had been that morning was shining in golds and silvers from the spot on his floor. He nodded to tiny Stark.

A sudden whistling sound was the only warning he got before a winged beast attacked his head. America batted at the baby dragon but it successfully ignored him as it made a nest in his hair.

Why him?

Wrangling the leathery creature into his hands, the teeth snapping at him like a four-legged piranha, America stomped down the stairs with his new friend worming around against his chest. Tony better be in the basement or America was going to throw something.

Luckily, the grey alien was in the basement. He accepted the hyper dragon with a bored look and America made sure to slam the door on his way out.

Putting his glasses back on, he spent the next five hours separating the international coins for his fellow personifications and organizing the jewelry and other pretty (stolen) items to take to the police department. He hoped that Tony could control the little menace while he returned everything.

When he returned to the conference a few nations shot him nasty looks and cold glares when he had to explain that he had their money (and Canada's glasses) because his dragon took it since it was, well, shiny. China muttered something rude under his breath but America only smiled brightly, pretending he couldn't translate Mandarin. England shook his head but still smiled when he plopped the requested amount of euros into his hand.

America considered the day a success.

Finally, he arrived back in his southern state with a tired frown. It was a long day and he wanted to take a nap. But first… he had to take care of some chores.

.

Bonus!

.

"Good girl," America cooed, accepting the penny with an excited grin and twinkling eyes. The dragon chirped happily at him, bouncing ahead. The leash tightened for a moment before the little critter sauntered back to his side, smoothly yielding to his chosen pace.

"Afternoon, Alfred," his human neighbor called as they were making their way back, barely parting a glance at his baby dragon. The man finished collecting his mail and sent one last wave in the American's direction.

When the two walked inside, America turned to the winged creature with an expectant glance. The dragon stretched leisurely before stalking into the kitchen where a super-sized mixing bowl (number twenty-one) was almost completely full with loose change. The alien-dragon dropped three quarters, twenty pennies, one dime, and five nickels into the bowl, licking the rim for good measure after it was done depositing the treasure.

Soon, America would need to empty the bowl and go to the bank. Again.

(His economy had honestly never been better.)

"I promised Denmark and Norway a playdate tonight, little dude, so make sure you're on your best behavior for them."

The dragon unfurled its wings and lunged. America giggled, trying to push the rough - tickling - tongue away from his face to no avail.

Unfortunately for him, his unicorn had skipped down the stairs at the noise and watched the scene with growing amusement. The magical creature bounced its horn in a majestic shrug, trotting over to lick America's fingers in greeting and perhaps also find some of those laughter-sensitive spots.

"Eeeeeeeeeeh! HAHAHAHAHAHA!"

Tony blinked from the basement and the whale let out a happy splash from the backyard. The rabbit twitched her ears and wished she wasn't the only sane one in the house.

.

 _fin_

.

 **Author's Note:** I was inspired by a tumblr post about having a pet dragon and also the few pictures of America and a T-Rex (because America apparently collects animal friends as easily as breathing and has no concept of survival). I also unapologetically referenced _Firefly_ at one point, did'yah see that?

I hope you enjoyed this one-shot! Please review!


	3. where the wind blows

**Disclaimer** : I don't own _Hetalia_ or _The Three Feathers_ by the Brothers Grimm.

 **Author's Note** : the prompt was to "rewrite a fairy tale" so I made one from my favorite story of all time. Please have fun!

Oh! And I would also like the take a short moment to thank the guest reviewer! You taking the time to read and then tell me that someone out there actually enjoyed my idea and story was so nice and I really appreciate that! Please stay wonderful (and I hope y'all quiet folks stay amazing, as well)!

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 **Summary** : AU. Three princes - Yao the wise, Kiku the clever, and Alfred the fool - must undergo a series of challenges to determine who shall inherit the kingdom. The catch? Their starting path is determined by the direction of a sole feather. Light USUK.

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It came as no surprise when a royal notice sprouted up in cities and towns almost overnight, proclaiming that the heir was to be announced to the kingdom within the coming month. For the past three weeks, the Queen had been bed-ridden by a malicious fever that had the medicinal doctors scrambling for a cure. Her old age only added to the threat, making her diagnosis remain bleak.

As it was, she was finally to the point where she was ready to make her peace. In order to prepare for her passing, she gathered her three sons in her spacious chamber to determine which prince would lead her people on a path towards progress and prosperity.

"Good morning, Queen," Kiku greeted politely, bowing his head as he gingerly walked to her bedside.

Yao smiled tightly, clasping his hands together in front of him. "Queen," he acknowledged warmly after thoroughly cataloguing the symptoms of her sickly appearance for future research.

Alfred bounced excitedly into the royal bedroom, almost knocking over a priceless vase with a cheerful shout of "Heya, mom!" Kiku winced as the curved sculpture gifted to them for the price of a thousand jewels teetered unsurely on the edge of the desk. Yao scowled sharply at the tanned blond, who neither noticed his half-brothers' icy looks nor his close-call with material destruction.

Their mother chuckled fondly and beckoned them forward. With the boys organized into a neat line along the edge of her bed, the Queen pushed herself up and opened the wooden box she had in her lap. On top of the hand-crafted quilts and blankets, her fingers carefully smoothing down the wrinkles, she placed three feathers.

One was the color of the full moon - a glowing, eye-catching silver.

The other shined like the color of the sun - a bright, flaring gold.

The last feather, dwarfed by its counterparts in size and variation, was the common color of a clear blue sky.

"Come forth, my sons, and take your feather," she instructed, watching them with bright eyes.

Prince Yao eyed the vibrant red-orange feather before choosing the first one, interpreting the metallic glint and wispy glow as a prosperous symbol for his future reign. He stepped back to watch his brother Kiku cautiously decide on the warm-hued feather glittering like a rising sun. As the last to choose, the simpleton prince Alfred grinned, undeterred by the lack of choices. He remained overwhelmingly enthusiastic as he picked up the boring feather with an undeserved amount of reverence.

"Now," she continued, relaxing against her pillows, "you are to take your feather outside and blow it into the air. You shall go as they fly. He who brings me the most beautiful cloth shall become King."

The three princes dutifully trotted outside, standing on the smooth marble ground in contemplation. Before them lay an expanse of adventure and possibility. Leaves ruffled in the tame wind and two birds soared across the clear sky with the faint sound of welcoming chirps.

"We must blow them together, at once," Kiku said cleverly, accounting for the possibility of manipulation. "To make this a fair competition."

Yao rubbed the stem of his silver feather and nodded briskly. "Good idea, aru."

"Okay, dudes!" Alfred chirped, striking a pose that his half-brothers didn't see for they had already taken a step onto the muddy dirt and did not look back. The fool prince still added a heartfelt, "Good luck!"

Yao and Kiku ignored him. The dark-haired brothers understood that their competition was with each other and not their clumsy, bespectacled half-brother. Alfred could not make a threatening rival for the crown even if he tried. He was a fool, forever and always.

"May the best son win," Yao told Kiku with an arrogant, competitive smirk.

"Yes," Kiku agreed simply, his face expressionless.

Simultaneously, the three princes released their feathers and watched as their adventure began with the call of the wind.

The grey feather twinkled in the day sun, floating to the east in a gentle, looping wave. Kiku's golden feather soared purposefully towards the west. The third feather, however, flew straight up and only managed a few feet of distance before settling down, still on palace grounds.

The princes mocked Alfred with unsuccessfully stifled laughter and light-hearted taunts, watching as the fool walked seven steps to sit beside his useless feather, forced to stay. With his own ambitious feelings bolstered with the idiot's failure, Yao set off, heading to the right. The second prince patiently followed along his own feather's direction, walking to the left. Alfred watched them walk away.

As the midday sun started to set, the warmth in the air slowly seeped away and the vibrant colors of the day became more saturated. Prince Alfred felt all the more clearly the cold marble floor, huddling in on himself. In the growing dark, a light breeze caressed his cheeks and dried the tear tracks. Yet still his feather did not move from its spot on the floor. Angrily swiping at his eyes with the back of his hand, Alfred crouched down on the ground, hoping the morning would bring a welcome change and a night's sleep would facilitate a new, inventive possibility.

When his hands rested on the ground to rest, however, he noticed an uneven bump. Confused, the blond prince sat upright, running his fingers along the indented line until he felt the soft blue feather lying at the corner of the strangely edged shape. Curling his fingers into the long dip, Alfred put his abnormal strength into lifting the dislodged marble floorboard. He set it aside, breathing heavily, to stare down wooden stairs that led into a dark underground.

Yao and Kiku were likely already coming back to the palace with beautiful fabric fit for the gods, Alfred predicted without bitterness. They were both wise and clever enough to be successful. As Alfred looked down the stairs, he wondered if he should follow his smarter brothers' lead and hope his feather was picked up by the wind. He could wish to fly beyond the palace halls for his beautiful cloth, just like them.

For here, he had nowhere else to go except down. Why would his beautiful cloth be below the floorboards?

Yet with a graceless shrug, Alfred felt the beginnings of a smile form on his face at the adventure he could have only a step away, and he braved the wobbly, wooden staircase as he walked down, down, down into the darkness. It steadily got quieter and stiller, where even the sound of creaking floorboards felt shushed by the lower realm. Then, the wood suddenly disappeared as he stepped on the uneven ground of rocks and dirt. A step forward and Alfred faced a tall door. He was only able to make out the metallic doorknob in the dim light.

 _Knock knock knock_. Alfred rapped out a rhyming tune he had been taught during one of his secret nighttime outings to see the child peasants.

From beyond the door, there was a tinkling sound. Alfred jumped at the sound of a crash accompanied by irritated yelling in a musical, fruity language. He chewed on the inside of his cheek and wondered if perhaps he had made the wrong decision.

"Go hither, _rosbif_ ," the voice ordered from beyond the door, "hop to the door and see who is there."

Without preamble, the door opened. Alfred stared. Before him sat a large toad, its beady eyes a pretty, distracting blue, with a golden body decorated healthily in small warts. Around him sat a throng of smaller toads, though one amphibian was leisurely hopping around along the edge of the group, green eyes alight with curiosity. Alfred grinned at them, happy to meet new friends. They blinked back.

 _So cool!_ he thought simply.

The large toad in the middle tilted his head and asked, " _Chéri_ , what is it that you want?"

Alfred answered wistfully, smiling sadly at the group, "I desire the loveliest fabric in the world."

The charming toad turned to the green-eyed one, calling, "Go hither, _rosbif_ , hop quickly and bring me the plain box." He turned to Alfred with a sultry smirk, but the young prince did not notice, excited as he was with watching the little critters and taking in the new, unexplored sight. As the tiny green-eyed toad brought forward the box, the pretty toad opened it and carefully brought out the most beautiful cloth Alfred had ever seen. It was so fine none could have been woven like it on heaven or earth, the soft silk and rolling colors a soulful piece of art.

The fool prince forced himself to close his mouth. "Wow," he breathed, running a finger along the colorful fringe. "Wow."

Rosbif snarked quietly, "Is that the only word you know?" and the fat toad smacked him upside the head with the reprimand of "Shush, Arthur."

Alfred laughed obnoxiously, startling the toads. The green-eyed one couldn't stop the faint smile from curling his lips at the cute sight. The prince crouched down to their level and said, his voice full of gratitude and love, "Thank you."

The large toad preened. Green-eyed Arthur rolled his eyes and bizarrely muttered, "stupid frog."

Alfred ascended the stairs three at a time, the gorgeous cloth bundled carefully against his chest in a neat fold.

Meanwhile, wise Yao and clever Kiku had obediently followed their feathers to the east and west respectively. The smart princes understood that their bumbling half-brother was too stupid to have found a cloth worthy of the Queen's attention.

With an impatient mind full of determined ambition, Yao collected a coarse but lovingly designed handkerchief from the first shepard's wife he met. The short prince set off to return to the palace for his crown.

From the west, Kiku browsed a bustling town's market, admiring the trinkets that tinkled in the wind and the hand-embroidered peasant clothes. He selected a nice cheap fabric, the texture rough but still certainly better than what Prince Alfred could surely find. He, too, headed back to the Queen with high hopes.

The three princes converged in the throne room at the same time. The Queen perked up in her seat and waved her sons over to her so she may judge their findings. As the brothers showcased their fabric - the handkerchief, the peasant cloth, and the ethereal silk - the astonished Queen congratulated them on a job well done and named the fool Alfred the heir to the throne.

"The kingdom belongs to the youngest," she directed, barely taking her eyes off the beautiful fabric. Alfred took the time to memorize her full smile and crinkling eyes, a face she hadn't expressed since the onset of her sickness.

Yao and Kiku immediately protested, clamoring forward in horror and surprise.

"Queen, you must reconsider!" Yao begged, tugging the pretty cloth from her hands so he could have her full attention. "This fool cannot run this kingdom, for surely he will lead it to ruin in his idiocy!"

By his side, Kiku nodded slowly when his older brother glared at him and added quietly, "Alfred lacks the understanding to be King."

"You must reconsider," Yao said again, his brown eyes wide and pleading. Kiku shuffled nervously by the side of the throne, but also agreed that the challenge had not been acceptable.

The Queen stared coolly at her three sons and the cloth that they had brought before her. She turned to look at Alfred, her youngest son, who only smiled brightly at them, a fond look in his blue eyes as he remained oblivious to the tension. With a heavy sigh, the ill royal decreed, "He who brings me the prettiest ring shall inherit the throne."

As before, the three princes were led to the marble courtyard and instructed to blow their feathers into the air. The grey feather glided to the east and the orange feather moved to the west. Likewise, the blue feather flew up and then immediately down again, landing near the trap door on the floor. Yao went right, Kiku went left, and Alfred waited until he was alone before he crawled down the staircase to see the nice fat toad and his sarcastic green-eyed friend.

He knocked on the door, bouncing on his heels.

From within he heard: "Go hither, _mon petit lapin_ , hop to the door and see who is there."

As the door swung open, Alfred greeted the large toad and his smaller companions with flailing arms and a smile so large he hurt his cheeks. The golden amphibian chuckled lowly and the small green-eyed toad sniffed imperiously at the happy-go-lucky prince.

"Welcome back, Prince Alfred," the toads chanted, hopping around him. Alfred giggled at their antics.

The large toad smiled up at him kindly. "What is it that you want, _mon chéri_?"

Alfred told them of how his mother had admired his cloth the most and crowned him the heir, but then was persuaded by his brothers to revise the conditions and include another mission where they were tasked to find the nicest ring in all of the land.

Once more, the gorgeous toad ordered his smaller, cranky friend to bring over the box. "Go hither, _mon petit lapin_ , hop quickly and bring me the plain box."

From within the small wooden encasing, the toad revealed a ring so elegant and lovely it could outshine the stars in the night sky. The jewels shimmered and even in the dim light of the underground it could cast a faint rainbow along the wall. It was so beautiful no goldsmith on earth would have been able to craft it.

Alfred squealed loudly, picking up Arthur in his palms and unabashedly kissing his leathery head. The small toad sputtered angrily. The fat toad laughed after throwing in a saucy cat-call from the ground as the other toads tittered in amusement. The blond prince blushed and set the green-eyed toad down as he thanked them profusely for the ring.

He rushed up the stairs with a full heart and bright eyes.

At the same time in the east and west neighboring towns, the older princes remained unassuming about their half-brother's chances of being so lucky once again, thinking this mission was a good joke for the fool. With such low expectations, the dark-haired men knocked the nails out of an old carriage ring to bring back to the royal palace.

As the princes produced their rings, the Queen was once again amazed by Alfred's dazzling gem and declared him the next King. "The kingdom belongs to the youngest," she repeated.

Yao glared at his half-brother. "But Queen," he exclaimed in outrage, turning to their mother with his hands clasped together, "Alfred cannot rule the kingdom. He is a fool."

"Do you really think it is a good idea to let Alfred-kun rule the kingdom on his own, Queen?" Kiku said, eyeing their aging mother with a close eye. "Surely not."

The Queen closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose. Tiredly, she turned to Alfred and asked, "My youngest son, what have you to say to your brothers?"

Alfred straightened as all the eyes fastened on him. He only looked to his mother as he said, "I shall say that one final condition does not hurt me." He grinned and gave two thumbs up. "This is actually very fun!"

She nodded. "Very well. Then the one who brings the most beautiful lover home shall have the kingdom and throne."

The three feathers were released into the air, and each flew as before.

Alfred wasted no time in jumping down the old wooden staircase. He knocked on the door and heard one last time: "go hither, Arthur, hop to the door and see who is there."

The door opened with a cheerful creak and Alfred rushed to greet his leathery, warty friends. "Heya, dudes!"

Once the young blond was sitting on the ground surrounded by the hopping toads, the golden, blue-eyed toad wondered, "What is it that you want, Prince Alfred?"

Alfred pet the green-eyed toad with a loving smile, telling them of his troubles and the new mission where he was asked to bring home the prettiest lover.

The fat, lovely toad croaked from his raised seat and said with a proud tone, "Oh! I'm sorry, cutie, but the most beautiful lover cannot go with you for he is needed elsewhere."

The young prince sighed mournfully but his smile remained as he ran a finger along Arthur's rough skin. The tiny toad didn't seem to notice, too busy glaring hatefully at the larger amphibian. "That's alright, Mr. Toad-dude!"

"However," the charming toad continued, "You can have the second best lover, most certainly!"

From under Alfred's hand, the green-eyed toad hissed in outrage, " _second_ best!? You narcissistic wanker," in a weird accent the prince hadn't heard before. He liked it.

"Second best?" the bespectacled prince questioned unsurely, wondering who he would get. He didn't notice wide green eyes watching him closely, almost nervously.

"Yes!" the gold toad said happily. He handed the blond youth a hollowed out yellow turnip with six mice tied to the twisting harness, and the prince accepted it curiously. He wondered aloud what this was to be used for, so the toad clarified, "Put one of my little toads into it."

Alfred stood up to survey the hopping toads. The fat toad jumped onto his shoulder, watching just as closely. The prince shuffled in place, twisting his hands together. He turned and whispered, "How will I know who's the prettiest lover?"

The toad only smiled at him.

Very well. With a deep breath to gather his confidence, fool Alfred bit his lower lip and crouched down to ask green-eyed Arthur if would like to be the one. The toad on his shoulder clapped his webbed feet with a jaunty, "honhonhon."

Toad Arthur hesitated, however, staring with his emerald-green eyes shining in the dark light until the human prince felt suitably uncomfortable and started to apologize. The gold toad started to say something to the broken teen, but Arthur interrupted him with a loud croak and jumped into the lemon-colored coach. No sooner had his webbed feet landed on the empty turnip had he transformed into a wonderful, slim blond man with large, intelligent green eyes and….uh, enormous eyebrows? And at the same time, the hollowed out root turned into a lavish coach, adorned with six mice-turned-horses.

"Artie," Alfred cheered, hugging the gorgeous human with the pretty scowl and handsome green eyes filled with love and generosity. His bushy eyebrows were so cute, Alfred wanted to kiss them all the time.

" _Arthur_ ," he corrected waspishly but he was smiling. Alfred only hugged him tighter.

"Thank you," Alfred told the beautiful man. He turned to the large, content toad. "And thank you, mister Toad."

"Frog," Arthur acknowledged, nodding sharply at his old friend. He turned away before the toad could gloat or laugh, closing the coach door with a harsh slam.

"Ha ha." Alfred grinned at them, waving good-bye joyfully as the toads wished him luck and good fortune.

Alfred and Arthur drove off with the horses, heading back to the Queen and his older brothers.

Yao and Kiku had been reasonably sure that their foolish half-brother could not find a pretty lover from the marble floor where he was forced to sit, not unless a servant would come by and feel pity for the pathetic prince. With that in mind, the eldest prince came back from the east with the first peasant woman he had chanced to meet. She was indeed pleasing to look at, with her messy light-colored hair and deep purple eyes, so Yao considered himself successful. He ignored the menacing aura and "kolkolkol's" she sometimes adopted when he made a casual gaff.

In the west, the second prince Kiku had the same thoughts about Alfred's chances as his older brother, so he walked into town without much consideration on the mission. As he sat down to eat, a cat rubbed against his shin, purring. A peasant man walked over, rubbing his eyes and yawning. Kiku considered him carefully and then nodded to himself. He asked the man to come to palace with him, and the sleepy peasant agreed easily enough. Kiku spent his time petting the handsome man's numerous cats as they walked.

When the Queen saw the attractive men and woman, she hummed. After a brief moment, she announced clearly, "The kingdom belongs to the youngest."

Yet again, the older brothers could not consent to the declaration that their foolish half-brother would rule the kingdom. It was chaos in her bedchamber.

The Queen screamed into her pillow and everyone went silent. She raised her head, the bags under her eyes pronounced. " _Enough_."

Yao hurried to say into the momentary silence, "How about the one whose lover can leap through a ring hanging in the center of the hall shall have the preference, aru?"

Yao and Kiku shared a glance and smirk. The pretty blond in the yellow carriage had likely never worked a day in his life, so surely he could not beat their peasants who worked hard every day for a living. The delicate man will certainly jump himself to death.

The Queen agreed and the group made their way to the great hall.

Unfortunately for the older princes, the peasant woman and the peasant man dutifully tried to jump through the hoop, but the landing was tricky and the lovely woman landed dangerously on her ankle, twisting it. The sleepy man tried to jump, but was unsuccessful in making it to the ring. He shrugged helplessly at the prince's flat glare.

Then, the beautiful man that foolish Alfred had brought with him sprang forward as delicately as a deer and landed with a dramatic roll and haughty smirk.

The opposition was forced to finally consent to Alfred's succession. He was given the crown and alongside his partner Arthur, the two ruled the country with love and wisdom for a long length of time. Alfred hung up his sky-blue feather in a frame in their bedroom after Arthur remarked that it shined like his eyes, representing an expanse of unending possibility and freedom. He himself liked it because it was what led him to an amazing Queen he could love forever.

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 _fin_

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 **Author's Note** : I chose to make China and Japan his brothers solely because I thought they both fit the Wise and Clever moniker, not for any other reason, and I hope I didn't offend anybody with their characterization. I also didn't have a choice for who Francis was, his character was decided for me by the gods and I regret nothing

I'll probably use this prompt again for a more well-known or maybe Disney-fied version of a fairy tale, because that also sounds like fun.

I hope you liked it! Please review, if you can. :)


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